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Visiting the Knabenshues
My stepdad's sister had a nice apartment with a pool. We had moved back to AZ and the summers were brutal. I looked forward to anywhere where I could enter the water.
She had 3 kids. Two older than me, and one closer to my age. He had to finish his homework before going out to swim, and I was offered to take part in doing some matching and seeking pages. Things like Word Find or Matching 3 In a Row were super easy to me. I didn't realize until many years later that the onslaught of my stepdad's abuse, especially repeatedly scaring, surprising, and punishing me, gave me some super human reflexes along with the PTSD.
As I laid on the floor next to my step cousin, and finished the pages with lightening speed...my cousin brought this to my Aunt's attention. Then it piqued my Mother's interest enough, that she came over to see. She began to bring attention to it as well.
Soon, my Stepfather began to discount, interrupt, and remove any opportunity for me to receive praise, acknowledgement, or reward. This seemed pretty odd to my Cousin, as well as his Mother and mine. I knew what he was doing, but I never understood why he hated me so much.
It's been many years since I've heard of or from any of these family members, except for my repeated attempts to at least try to keep in touch with my Mother. If I saw my stepfather now, I would likely throw him down the stairs or use him for target practice.
Back then, it made sense to me as I honestly believed all my childhood (about 9 years with him) that he absolutely hated me.
What was wrong with acknowledging my astonishing speed at completing these word games on paper? He attempted to cloud everyone else's judgement, arguing I shouldn't be offered anything that came easy, because I needed challenging tasks so as not to placate me into being lazy.
How ridiculous those accusations were. How cruel he was to me. How I wasn't allowed one ounce of pleasantness, while ruled by that Tyrant.
His Alcoholism and Abuse seemed to seep into everything in my life. It was a miserable, depressing place to be anywhere within his reach. How I hated him. He insisted and argued, until I was allowed 20 minutes to swim in the community pool. Hardly worth the time, but I relished it nonetheless. Under the cover of water, it was almost like being able to escape my miserable life then.
If I had the means now, and was asked what one thing would I like to accomplish in this life, before my days are done? It would be to find the girl whose foot he ran over when we still lived in Japan. It would be to find her, and tell her how sorry I was that he wouldn't stop. How I tried my best to demand the stranger in his USNaval Uniform, driving my absent Mother's little red Triumph, threatened to kill and dismember me when I was 4, and to destroy any remains so no one would ever find me...if I ever talked about the incident.
I knew before anything happened, before any of the abuse started, that this pathetic POS would damage my life, and disrupt the purpose for which I was born.
Even when he tried to lose me near Mt.Fuji, drown me in the ocean, and brainwash me to self destruct, I refused to give in. He could never erase my soul.
It's taken nearly half a century of hard, diligent work for me to realize what happened. Make sense of, and understand it all.
Now, that I'm a Hermit of sorts and live a very simple and quiet life alone I understand things much better.
I really am the strongest person I know....
© All Rights Reserved
She had 3 kids. Two older than me, and one closer to my age. He had to finish his homework before going out to swim, and I was offered to take part in doing some matching and seeking pages. Things like Word Find or Matching 3 In a Row were super easy to me. I didn't realize until many years later that the onslaught of my stepdad's abuse, especially repeatedly scaring, surprising, and punishing me, gave me some super human reflexes along with the PTSD.
As I laid on the floor next to my step cousin, and finished the pages with lightening speed...my cousin brought this to my Aunt's attention. Then it piqued my Mother's interest enough, that she came over to see. She began to bring attention to it as well.
Soon, my Stepfather began to discount, interrupt, and remove any opportunity for me to receive praise, acknowledgement, or reward. This seemed pretty odd to my Cousin, as well as his Mother and mine. I knew what he was doing, but I never understood why he hated me so much.
It's been many years since I've heard of or from any of these family members, except for my repeated attempts to at least try to keep in touch with my Mother. If I saw my stepfather now, I would likely throw him down the stairs or use him for target practice.
Back then, it made sense to me as I honestly believed all my childhood (about 9 years with him) that he absolutely hated me.
What was wrong with acknowledging my astonishing speed at completing these word games on paper? He attempted to cloud everyone else's judgement, arguing I shouldn't be offered anything that came easy, because I needed challenging tasks so as not to placate me into being lazy.
How ridiculous those accusations were. How cruel he was to me. How I wasn't allowed one ounce of pleasantness, while ruled by that Tyrant.
His Alcoholism and Abuse seemed to seep into everything in my life. It was a miserable, depressing place to be anywhere within his reach. How I hated him. He insisted and argued, until I was allowed 20 minutes to swim in the community pool. Hardly worth the time, but I relished it nonetheless. Under the cover of water, it was almost like being able to escape my miserable life then.
If I had the means now, and was asked what one thing would I like to accomplish in this life, before my days are done? It would be to find the girl whose foot he ran over when we still lived in Japan. It would be to find her, and tell her how sorry I was that he wouldn't stop. How I tried my best to demand the stranger in his USNaval Uniform, driving my absent Mother's little red Triumph, threatened to kill and dismember me when I was 4, and to destroy any remains so no one would ever find me...if I ever talked about the incident.
I knew before anything happened, before any of the abuse started, that this pathetic POS would damage my life, and disrupt the purpose for which I was born.
Even when he tried to lose me near Mt.Fuji, drown me in the ocean, and brainwash me to self destruct, I refused to give in. He could never erase my soul.
It's taken nearly half a century of hard, diligent work for me to realize what happened. Make sense of, and understand it all.
Now, that I'm a Hermit of sorts and live a very simple and quiet life alone I understand things much better.
I really am the strongest person I know....
© All Rights Reserved
